Like Father, Like Daughter?
by rach1803
Summary: "She's an idiot John, an absolute idiot! MY daughter! The idiot!" Sherlock yelled. New chapter up.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so this is an idea I have had, I will be updating my other Sherlock Story soon but this is just to see how this idea may be taken.**

**So hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock**

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><p>John held his breath and walked through the door. It had been 6 weeks since Sherlock had found a case valued "interesting" and so for 6 weeks he had done nothing but leave body parts all over the flat and be rude to everyone. John knew from experience living with Sherlock what happened when he didn't have a case. Sherlock got bored, and that meant dangerous. He had heard the gunfire half way up the street, he braced himself.<p>

"What the hell Sherlock?" John yelled at his flat mate. The wall had not one but several yellow faces on it, each with about twenty holes on them.

"I AM BORED!" Sherlock roared over the sound of gunfire as he continued to blow apart the wall. "I need something to do, something constructive, something interesting or else my brain will rot!" john sighed. Sherlock stopped firing.

"What?" he snapped.

"You could always do something normal you know." john walked across the room to the kitchen.

"Like what?" Sherlock turned to face the doctor, normal was not something he enjoyed.

"I don't know you could read a book, Mrs Hudson has got that murder…"

"I read the first two chapters and solved the murder. It was the gardener. It's obvious so why it takes some detective twenty chapters to figure that out I have no idea." He paused and leant forward against the back of the chair. he was ranting. "Oh wait of course I know... it's because they're all IDIOTS." With that Sherlock turned and started firing a face which looked extremely similar to Anderson. John sighed again.

"Do you have to…"

"BORED. BORED. BORED." Sherlock yelled.

This continued for about five minutes until Sherlock stopped suddenly.

"Mrs Hudson." He said his back to the door as their landlady entered the room. She walked into the flat and was followed by a man in a suit.

"Sherlock dear you have a visitor I…." she paused seeing the wall. "Oh Sherlock what have you done to my wall!" she waved her hands at it in frustration.

"The wall had it coming Mrs Hudson... now I suggest that you go back downstairs as your iron is about to burn a hole into your shirt." With that Sherlock walked Mrs Hudson back to the door, as she stared hopelessly at the wall. Sherlock shut it behind her.

"That was rude." John said disapprovingly.

"It's her favourite shirt." Sherlock stated. He turned to the man in the suit and let his mind work. Man was in early forties, married and happily the ring was clean, well-cared for he loves his wife. Smart suit, expensive so an important job in the city? Yes defiantly a briefcase in hand could be a banker… no a solicitor. Definitely a solicitor.

"Now," he said to him, "I am wondering what a solicitor is doing interrupting my target practice?"

"How did you…" the man started.

"Irrelevant, I am a genius, now what do you want?" he demanded.

"Well Mr Holmes I am here about your daughter." The man said, his words silencing the room, and with that Sherlock Holmes.

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><p><strong>there you go, hope its okay.<strong>

**Reviews always welcome.**

**Rach**


	2. Chapter 2

**hey, so thanks for the response to this story your all so nice! :-)**

**not too sure about this chapter but I just wanted to get this one out of the way and up as I had a bit of trouble with it.**

**Hope its okay**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.**

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><p>Sherlock turned away from the man, facing the window. John was the first to speak.<p>

"His what sorry?" he questioned; he couldn't believe it Sherlock with a child? No it couldn't be he'd never mentioned it and besides, Sherlock was married to his work. He didn't do relationships. The man coughed.

"I am here on behalf of Mr Holmes' daughter Mr…." the man looked on questioningly.

"Doctor, doctor john Watson." John nodded at the man.

"Well, doctor Watson like I say I am Jacob Barnes here from Tyne's and Barrett's solicitors here to talk to Mr Holmes about the care of his seventeen year old daughter…"

"I don't have a daughter." Sherlock turned away from the window to face the man. "I think I would remember that." he added sarcastically.

"Yes her mother thought you would say that." Barnes smiled slightly, he had been told to except this, and apparently the man knew nothing of his daughter's existence so he had been told to be patient. Sherlock walked over to him.

"And who might she be?"

"A Miss Jennifer Lawson." Sherlock faced creased, he knew that name. His mind shot back seventeen years. He was in East London on a case, it had lead him to a small bar, there was a woman her name was Jennifer, she had smiled and they had gone back to her flat and…

Sherlock's face dropped, he had totally forgotten.

"I remember her." Sherlock said slowly he stepped back from Barnes and turned away again. He had a bad feeling about this. He couldn't have a child could he? Okay, he knew biologically he could but he was Sherlock Holmes. He didn't do children.

"Yes Mr Holmes, like I said I am here on behalf of her and her daughter, in Miss Lawson's will…"

"She's dead?" John couldn't believe this; it couldn't be true could it. Sherlock's face was impossible to read.

"Yes, there was a house fire three weeks ago. Miss Lawson perished in the flames." Mr Barnes paused. "But as I said in her will she left specific instructions that her daughter was to be entrusted into her father's care." He looked at Sherlock, "That is you Mr Holmes."

"When was she born?" Sherlock questioned, still facing the window. Mr Barnes looked confused.

"When was who…" He began.

"The girl Jennifer Lawson's daughter! When was she born?" Sherlock snapped turning back to face Barnes. How could he be so slow?

"Third of January 1994." Barnes responded he had heard the man was strange, but he hadn't expected this. He seemed manic.

Sherlock's mind was racing, January third…. The dates added up. It seemed to fit. He had a daughter. Barnes was still talking.

"As I say Mr Holmes, Miss Lawson wished that you would look after her…your daughter in her will so..." again Sherlock interrupted him.

"When will she be arriving?" He sighed and turned back to Barnes, he had, had quiet enough of this man and only wished he would leave.

"Within the week Mr Holmes." Barnes was startled by Sherlock's sudden change. "She is currently staying with an aunt in France." Sherlock nodded.

"Is that all?" he asked bluntly.

"I um... yes Mr Holmes that is all." Barnes stammered. Sherlock sighed again

"Then Mr Barn I believe you are done?" Sherlock could feel johns glare in his back. He was being rude again.

"Barnes." The man corrected almost timidly.

"Irrelevant." Sherlock snapped.

"Well then I bid you good day... Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson." Barnes shook Johns hand and nodded nervously to Sherlock. He headed for the door. John cleared his throat.

"Wait." Barnes turned from the door and looked at him questioningly, "what's her name?"

"Ebony." Barnes said he couldn't believe he had forgotten. "Ebony Holmes." With that he turned and left the flat. Sherlock watched him scuttle away from the window. John sighed and flopped into a chair.

"Well, that was unexpected." He said to his friends back. He still couldn't believe it, Sherlock Holmes had a daughter. He laughed suddenly.

"What?" Sherlock said irritably, still facing the window. John smiled.

"At least you won't be bored anymore." With that John left the room to give Sherlock time to think. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Ebony Holmes." He said to the window, it sounded strange on his tongue, "Ebony Holmes."

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Hope it was okay :-)<strong>

**Reviews are appreciated :-)**

**Rach**


	3. Chapter 3

**so here's the next chapter, thanks again for all the support, your all so nice! :-)**

**its not a huge chapter but I'm hopefully going to do a bigger one in the next few days.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.**

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><p>Sherlock opened his eyes slowly, he pressed down on his arm, down on the three nicotine patches that rested there. A three patch case. He loved those cases.<p>

He closed his eyes again, the clues ran through his mind. An elderly couple had been found dead, they had been wealthy; no sign of injury on the body, no children so no inheritance claim. Sherlock ran the blood results through his head…

"Sherlock?" John interrupted. Sherlock's opened and narrowed, he hated being interrupted.

"What?" he snapped, not bothering to face him, whatever he wanted it couldn't be that important.

"Have you forgotten what day it is?" John asked, he had better not forgotten. John had been reminding him for the last three days, making sure they had everything for the arrival. Sherlock turned to face him.

"It's a Wednesday John, you really should check your calendar, I believe that's why you got it." John sighed again, he had forgotten. Typical Sherlock, if it wasn't life threatening he couldn't remember.

"No Sherlock, no today is the day your daughter gets here." Sherlock sat up. Today couldn't be the day could it? Urghh his head, he needed a cigarette. He thought for a moment. No today was the day. The day he became a father. Oh dear.

"Sherlock?" John stared at his flat mate. Sherlock lay back down. "Sherlock aren't you going to get up? Get ready?"

"Ready for what John?" Sherlock pressed back down on his arm, John stared at him.

"You're about to become a father Sherlock don't you want to…"

"Technically John I have been a father for seventeen years, just because I didn't know doesn't change that fact." He paused he could sense his friends annoyance, "don't look at me like that." he snapped.

"But she's arriving today Sherlock, it's the first time you'll meet her she will need you. Her mother's just died for god's sake!" John spoke quickly. His eyebrows creased. Why couldn't Sherlock understand? There was nothing there, no emotion just him and his nicotine.

"Exactly John, her mother has just died, so what would you have me do? Throw a party? Welcome to your new home sorry your mother's dead? Highly insensitive don't you think? I thought you would have understood that." Sherlock stared at the ceiling words flowing quickly from his mouth like they always did when he was irritated. "Besides, you've already gotten everything; there is nothing for me to do."

"Jesus Sherlock." John really couldn't deal with him right now. He was about to leave when Mrs Hudson walked in.

"Sherlock? I was shouting dear." She shook her head at the man on the sofa. "What are you boys like? Anyway there was this young lady at the door, said she was here to see you." With one last look at the state of the kitchen she left the flat. John turned to face the girl in the doorway.

She was of medium height, thin dark hair tied in a loose ponytail. She wore casual clothing, jeans and a check shirt. She was pale with blue eyes. Sherlock's eyes.

"Hi, you must be Ebony?" john offered her his hand; she put her case down and took it nodding. "My name is John Watson, I live here too." He smiled at her; she gave a small smile back.

"And this is…."

"The tea! It was in the tea!" Sherlock's mind clicked everything into place as he got up and ran from the room. Case solved. Now to tell Lestrade.

John sighed and looked apologetically to the girl. Sherlock had not even acknowledged her. Not said hello, not welcomed her. Her own father.

"He…he does that sometimes." He tried to explain, the girl looked at the floor. John tried to smile at her.

"Why don't I show you to your room so you can unpack?" the girl nodded and John showed her to the room he had set out.

One of us is going to welcome this girl, he thought, and if Sherlock can't be bothered, I will.

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><p><strong>Hope it was okay! reviews are always welcome, I love to know what you guys think.<strong>

**Rach :-)**


	4. Chapter 4

**I am so so so sorry again for the delay! I've been away for a week and then it was my birthday at the weekend so didn't get chance to upload. **

**But thanks for the reviews and the story alerts etc on this story means a lot :-)**

**Hope this is still okay and that you enjoy it :-)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock**

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><p>"So here's your room." John opened the door and allowed the girl to walk in. she put her suitcase next to the bed.<p>

"Thanks." Ebony spoke quietly nodding at the doctor. John smiled and put his hands in his front pocket. God this was awkward.

"So did you um need anything or..." John was cut off by the sound of his phone. "Sorry" he glanced at the girl apologetically and looked at the number. He sighed.

"Sherlock…what? No I'm busy…welcoming_ your_ daughter…no I can't just…no Sherlock!" John sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Ebony sat on the bed quietly.

"Maybe she could some with…" John tried again. Ebony sighed.

"John?" He glanced at the girl, "it's okay you can go, I'll be fine."

"You sure?" she nodded; John smiled told Sherlock he was on his way and left the room. Ebony sighed and flopped back on the bed.

So this was home.

Half an hour later, John found himself at the crime scene of a particularly brutal triple murder. He walked over to Sherlock.

"This had better be good Sherlock." John said as he approached the consulting detective. Sherlock looked up.

"John what took you so long?" Sherlock stood up from examining one of the victims quickly. John frowned.

"I was busy looking after _your _daughter Sherlock, the one, in case you had forgotten came to live with us today, the one who you managed to totally ignore!" John replied angrily. Sherlock glared at him suddenly.

"John keep your voice..." He began desperately trying to keep his friend quiet. The last people he needed to find out about his _daughter _where…

"What was that? " Donavan looked up suddenly at Johns words. Sherlock turned to face her.

"Nothing." He said coldly and quickly.

"He said daughter," Donavan said slowly, she couldn't believe her ears, a taunting smile set on her face, "you've got a daughter! The freak has a kid! Poor kid or is she just as weird as you?" She leant on the door frame smiling mockingly at the clearly uncomfortable detective. Lestrade entered the room, followed by Anderson, Sherlock groaned inwardly.

"So what have we got?" Lestrade asked Donavan's grin grew wider.

"Ask Daddy." She mocked, Sherlock closed his eyes. Lestrade raised his eyebrows and stared at Sherlock in disbelief. Anderson's face broke into a smug smile at seeing him so wound up.

"What was that Sherlock…are you a…" Lestrade broke off, he didn't even know how to ask, and after all it was Sherlock Holmes. He didn't do families and he certainly didn't do women. They all thought he was a virgin. Instead he turned to face Donavan who raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"Yep, the freaks got a kid, a girl." Anderson laughed harshly.

"Who'd leave him with a kid… in fact how did you get a kid?" Anderson frowned suddenly; he hadn't thought Sherlock was one for relationships.

"Probably stole it." Donavan added from the door way Anderson nodded his head.

"Wouldn't put it past him." Sherlock eyes snapped open.

"Oh shut up Anderson, I did not _steal _her and to answer your question Lestrade, yes I have a seventeen year old daughter who has recently come to live with me after the death of her mother. Not that it's any of your business and when you've decided to grow up then maybe you could call me when your actually ready to listen to me do all your jobs for you because your all idiots." Sherlock spoke quickly and left the room. John followed him.

"Sherlock, "he called as they left the crime scene. "Sherlock!"

Sherlock didn't stop walking.

"Oh really well handled John that's just what I wanted, Anderson and Donavan knowing about my private life, thank you very much." John sighed.

"Look Sherlock I'm sorry but I think that Ebony needs you right now." Sherlock turned to face him. He stared at him blankly.

"Needs me for what? I already gave her half of her genes what more could she possibly want from me?" he questioned John. John frowned. He could not believe he was hearing this.

"Sherlock… she's seventeen, has just lost her mother, do you not think that maybe she could use some… I dunno emotional support from you?" Sherlock laughed suddenly.

"John she's seventeen years old, she can take care of herself and besides emotional support is really more your area isn't it." With that Sherlock walked away, leaving a confused and slightly angry John in the middle of the street.

John sighed again. He had been hoping having a daughter would make Sherlock feel something, anything. Happiness, responsibility, protectiveness. Anything to prove he was human and not totally incapable of emotion. John shook his head, he guessed not.

Maybe Sherlock Holmes was a total sociopath after all.

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><p><strong>There we go, hope you enjoyed it.<strong>

**Reviews are welcome I really like to hear the comments and what you guys think of my stories :-)**

**Rach **


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry its been forever! Life got in the way...**

**Thanks for the response to this story, its much appreciated :-)**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, I only own Ebony. **

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><p>Sherlock sighed as he looked up from his violin. He stared at the girl sat opposite him. He didn't know what to do. She couldn't be his; Sherlock closed his eyes and thought back over the last few days.<p>

He hadn't wanted to seem obvious, no; he didn't want John to know he was bothered so he had to be discrete. He could barely acknowledge the girl in front of him, just in case. In case they thought he cared. The occasional glance at her, the occasional word, that had been enough. He had taken to watching her, observing, deducing. Something familiar to him, something he knew.

She moved quietly, almost silently, like she was trying to blend into the surroundings, like she wanted to be invisible. To most eyes she managed it, but not to his, he always saw her. To him she never managed to disappear, she stuck out, and it annoyed him.

Sherlock hadn't wanted fatherhood; he had never desired it, never ached for the feel of a child in his arms. That was human stuff, John's area. Not his. He had never even wanted a relationship, never craved the touch of another, he had never wanted to be loved. He had only let himself down once. In a club, seventeen years ago. Now look at the consequences, a child. His child.

But was she? Could she truly be his? Sherlock knew the dates matched, knew they shared similarities in appearance, but that was it. She wasn't like him in mind, in character. She wasn't confident, she wasn't a genius, no she wasn't even smart. There was nothing special about her. She was ordinary. She was just there.

Without opening his eyes he sensed her get up and leave the room. Quietly. Silently some would say, but not him, after all how could she be silent when he could hear her faint steps on the floor? The hushed creak of a closing door. Sherlock put his head in his hands.

She was nothing like him.

He had thought maybe it was the shock of her mother that had left her so useless. Thought he could bring her out of it. He had tried, ranted loudly about his cases, left the notes everywhere, much to the annoyance of John and Mrs Hudson, but there had been nothing. No spark, no light, no intelligence. Nothing.

Sherlock sensed someone enter the room, official person but someone who felt almost at home, someone who had recently put weight on. Sherlock groaned inwardly.

"What is it Mycroft?" Sherlock said to his hands. Mycroft wasn't worth the energy of looking up.

Mycroft put his case and coat on the back of the kitchen chair and sat opposite his brother.

"Now Sherlock, no need to be so hostile, I only came here to see the latest addition to our family." Mycroft looked around, "Well where is she? I would have thought you would have had her working on some of your cases by now, unless" he paused smiling slightly, "she isn't up to it?"

"Shut up Mycroft." Sherlock looked up to glare at him. Mycroft laughed. The door opened.

"What's going on?" John asked walking into the room, followed by almost silent Ebony. Mycroft turned to face the doctor.

"I just came to wish Sherlock well into fatherhood and to meet my…niece." Mycroft smiled slightly at the girl. He had never expected to say that. Niece.

Mycroft held his hand out to the girl, who walked forward to shake it. Never uttering a word. She hardly ever did. Sherlock watched her, his brain working. Maybe, if she could deduce something, anything from her uncle, then maybe she wouldn't be totally useless. He watched her, but there was nothing there, no spark in the eyes, no magnificent brain putting clues together.

"What do you make of him?" Sherlock almost barked at his daughter, she looked at him startled he had addressed her, she shrugged her shoulders.

"He seems okay." She spoke quietly, timidly. She hadn't figured anything, not even the obvious. Sherlock could see it in her face, and no one was that good at pretending. At playing stupid.

Mycroft saw it too; he also saw the disappointment in his face as the girl turned to exit the room. His brother's daughter. She wasn't even special. Mycroft cleared his throat slightly.

"If that's all Mycroft?" John said, still stood at the back of the room. Mycroft shook his head.

"Actually…"

"No it never is that simple with you is it Mycroft." Sherlock glared at his brother again, he knew what he was thinking about the girl. The same things he was. Plain, stupid, useless.

"Actually, I have a case which I think may be of interest to you Sherlock here are the files, nasty business with some nuclear war heads, the plans appear to have gone missing, now be a good boy and retrieve them won't you?" He smiled patronizingly and stood up to leave, "and don't forget to call me when you're done. Doctor Watson." Mycroft nodded to him and left. John turned to Sherlock.

"Why did you take the files?" John stared at his flatmate.

"I have a job to do John." Sherlock stared at him from the couch. John walked towards the couch slowly, smiling slightly; he couldn't believe he was hearing this.

"Lestrade hasn't been giving you cases for a reason Sherlock, so you can get to know Ebony." Sherlock sighed. John could be so stupid at times.

"There is no need for me to get to know her, John there is nothing too know." Sherlock stood up and walked towards the door, past a spluttering John Watson.

"No Sherlock, wait, how can you say that? She's you..." Johns voice rose, he took a deep breath, he put his hands together, and "She is your daughter Sherlock. **Yours**, not mine. Despite what it might look like. But you haven't been bothered with her at all, you barely acknowledge her, you don't even speak to her. Why? Why Sherlock? Why the hell not?" John had lost his calm. Sherlock span around from the door. He hated it when John tried to understand what he was feeling, why he acted the way he did.

"Because John she is useless! She's an idiot John, an absolute idiot! MY daughter! The idiot!" Sherlock turned towards the door and left slamming the door as he did so. John sighed and stormed after his friend. The files still on the coffee table.

Ebony came out of the kitchen slowly she knew they had thought she was upstairs, supressing her anger in her father's words. An _idiot!_ She walked towards the files and laughed inwardly. She would show him.

Sherlock Holmes was wrong. He hadn't seen her.

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><p><strong>Hope it was okay!<strong>

**Let me know what you think in a review :-)**

**Until next time!**

**Rach **


	6. Chapter 6

**Again, so sorry for the delay! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/ Favorited this story, means a lot.**

**Will really be getting into the story in the next chapters.**

**Hope its okay!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. **

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><p>The taxi ride to St Bart's was awkward. John was still angry with the consulting detective, who had now decided to test a theory relating to the apparent suicide of a middle age woman. For this, he needed a body to test the theory on, not that he had bothered to tell John that. Sherlock knew that John was angry with him, but found that he didn't really care. Why should he bother with his so called daughter? She was nothing like him, wasn't brilliant, wasn't smart, she wasn't even arrogant. She was just there, and she was dull. Sherlock noted that the only thing they had in common was the fact they shared DNA, and even that wasn't overly obvious.<p>

They arrived at the hospital and Sherlock walked straight to the morgue, walking like he owned the place. Typical, John thought, he really does think he's above us all. Sighing he ran after his flatmate.

"Molly, Mrs Jacobs. I need her body." Sherlock ordered storming into the morgue, throwing of his coat and scarf. Molly jumped, nearly dropping her clipboard.

"I…I… She's on my list." Molly stammered as John entered the morgue.

"Yes, get her now." Sherlock rolled his eyes at the idiocy of normal people. John's eyes twitched.

"You know Molly you don't have to do everything he orders; I mean it's not as if he ever appreciates anything or anyone." Sherlock turned to glare at John.

"Well, some of us are too busy solving crimes and doing other peoples jobs to be appreciative." Sherlock said the last word mockingly. Daring his flatmate to respond. John opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by Molly, who coughed nervously.

"Um... are you two okay? You just seem a bit on edge." She smiled nervously, looking from one to the other. Sherlock turned to the body she had just brought out.

"Oh, we're fine Molly, just Sherlock denying his parental responsibilities." Sherlock sighed as John spoke, but he decided not to respond. Molly was normal maybe she had missed it. Molly's eyes widened.

"Sorry, did you just say parental responsibilities. Sherlock? What…" Sherlock turned to a very confused Molly.

"Oh, well done John. Yes, very mature. Just announce it to the whole hospital why don't you. Yes Molly I have a seventeen year old daughter who is despairingly ordinary and boring. Happy now?" Sherlock turned to John angrily. John smirked slightly. Sherlock turned to the body. Molly stood with her mouth open.

"Um…okay… I'm just going to be in there." She pointed to her office and left, shaking her head. Sherlock Holmes, a child? She couldn't believe it.

John and Sherlock didn't speak for the next half an hour. Sherlock examined the body carefully, until he deducted that it wasn't suicide. The cuts on her wrists where made after she had died. No, there was bruising on her neck. Finger marks. She had been murdered, strangled. Judging by the size of the hands it was a male. The husband, Sherlock decided. A domestic argument…

Sherlock was interrupted by the sound of his phone beeping. Sighing he glanced at it. A text from Mycroft, Sherlock frowned as he opened it reading the contents.

_Thank you, for retrieving the plans. Quicker than usual._

_Happy parenting._

_-MH._

Sherlock was confused. A feeling he despised. He hadn't looked at the files for the missing plans yet. He knew that. Was sure of it. Then who had. Who had managed to solve the case quicker than him? The only person who matched Sherlock in intelligence was Moriarty, and why would he want to help Mycroft. He wouldn't. Sherlock turned from the body, snatching up his coat and scarf.

He strode out of the morgue and into the nearest taxi; he was going to find out who had solved the case. He was going to start at Baker Street. The taxi pulled away.

John sighed from the pavement; Sherlock really did have a nerve.

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><p><strong>There you go! <strong>

**Reviews are appreciated.**

**Rach**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, so here is the next chapter, thanks so much for the support so far! You guys are so nice :-)**

**Hope its still okay, review to let me know :-P**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Only Ebony.**

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><p>Sherlock entered the building slowly. Shutting the door he saw Mrs Hudson shaking her head at him.<p>

"Oh Sherlock, can you turn the music down? Its making my walls shake and I can hardly hear my programme." She sighed at him as Sherlock stormed past her and up the stairs. The walls were indeed shaking. He paused and walked into 221B.

_I wanted freedom._

_Bound and restricted _

_I tried to give you up _

_But I'm addicted._

Sherlock shook his head slightly as he took in the strong scent of perfume. Entering the flat he glanced around for the girl, but he saw no sign of her. Sherlock rolled his eyes and walked purposely towards the CD player.

_Bury it_

_I won't let you bury it_

_I won't let you smother it_

_I won't let you murder it._

Sherlock quickly unplugged the CD player. A deafening silence filed the room as the walls stilled. Sherlock heard a door open.

"Hey! I was listening to that." Ebony glared at her father, but he didn't see her. He had his back to her.

"Yes, and so was the rest of London, whom by the way did not wish to listen." Sherlock turned around and pointed to the sofa. "Sit down, we need to talk." Ebony rolled her eyes.

"Let me guess, Uncle Mycroft text you to congratulate you on your success with the nuclear war head files?" she cocked her head on one side, mocking him, smiling slightly. "No need to thank me."

"I wasn't going to." Sherlock replied curtly.

"I know." Ebony smiled again. Sherlock stared at her. She was different, more confident.

"Then there was no need for you to utter such pointless syllables." Sherlock's eyes narrowed slightly as her grin got a little wider.

"I often find that it's the more pointless aspects of life that make the productive moments more worthwhile." She laughed as Sherlock failed to answer.

Ebony walked towards bathroom slowly, Sherlock followed her.

"How did you find the war head plans?" He asked. He still didn't believe it had been her. How could it have been? She was so ordinary. Ebony's reflection rolled her eyes. She was pinning her thick curls up in some form of loose bun. She took the hair slide out of her mouth to answer.

"Well, it was pretty easy really, there was the obvious terrorist threat, but that really was too obvious and anyway, these plans were of high importance and had only just been drafted so threat of terrorist action? Unlikely. So then I looked through the files of the people who had access to the files…"

"How did you get access to the files?" Sherlock asked in disbelief.

"The government database really isn't that hard to hack, do keep up, anyway, there I found a Mr Alex Webb. He wasn't the last one to see the files but he was the one who had taken the most interest, fairly clean record but he has a gambling addiction, running into financial difficulty, so what better to sell than brand new set of nuclear war head plans." She shrugged, finishing her hair. "Pretty obvious really. Your brother really should be more careful of who he hires." Sherlock felt his eyes widen slightly. She laughed.

"Surprised?" She asked. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

"But you're…"

"Stupid? Useless? Ordinary? Yet I still managed to solve the case quicker than you. Now the way I see it, which is exceptionally clearly, we have two options to explain this. One, your losing your touch. Or number two, you were wrong about me, I'm not stupid at all. Now which one will it be?" She turned away from the mirror and walked back into the lounge rolling her eyes at him.

"Judging by your unusual silence I'll take it as option number two shall I."

"You heard me." It wasn't a question Sherlock knew she had heard his outburst and he knew he wouldn't have to explain what he meant to her. She nodded.

"So did the rest of London, whom by the way did not wish to listen." She said her face suddenly serious.

The door opened and John marched into the room, looking slightly red in the face. Ebony couldn't help but smile at the sight of him.

"Sherlock! You could at least tell me before you storm off… what's going on here?" John asked taking in the scene. Ebony stood grinning at her father, who wore an expression which John had never seen him wear before. Confusion.

"Nothing John, I've just been explaining to my father how I solved the war head case." John laughed suddenly.

"You solved the case? Brilliant!" John turned to Sherlock, who was looking irritated, "That was who the text was from then, Mycroft?" Sherlock nodded darkly.

"To thank me and to congratulate me on solving it quicker than usual." John laughed again.

"She solved it quicker than you? This is brilliant, the girl you called ordinary, and she solved it faster than you!" John stopped laughing, but still had a great grin spread across his face. "Unbelievable!"

"I'll take that as a compliment shall I?" She raised her eyebrows at the doctor who nodded.

"Yeah, how did you do it? I mean how you solved it so quickly." He asked, Sherlock looked up, his expression still irritated.

"Yes do tell." Sherlock leant on the wall staring at the girl. The change was unbelievable. She laughed again. Why did she keep doing that?

"Because I'm brilliant." She smiled and headed towards the door. Ready to leave.

"Wait! Where do you think you're going?" John asked Ebony turned around.

"I'm going out." She stated, she had thought that was obvious. John shook his head.

"Not dressed like that you're not." Sherlock looked at the outfit she was wearing. In all of his confusion, an unfamiliar experience he did not wish to repeat, he had not even noticed it. Ebony was wearing a short black sleeveless dress, with cut side panels. She was also wearing high black heels and pearl earrings. Her lips wore a coat of light red lipstick and her lashes were long and her eyes were framed with dark eyeliner. Her nails were dark red. She sighed.

"Would you rather I took this off?" She raised her eyebrows mockingly at him. John shook his head.

"No...No you're not going out at all." John said firmly, Ebony sighed.

"Fine I'll just spend the evening in my room. If that's still allowed?" She walked towards her bedroom without waiting for an answer. The door slammed shut, John sighed.

"And you said she was boring." The doctor said as he sat down on the sofa, reaching for the newspaper. Sherlock kept his eyes on the door. Thinking.

Ebony waited, she waited about fifteen minutes, by which point she was sure John was convinced she would stay put. Well, by the time he came to check, she would be long gone. She walked towards the window and opened it quietly. Looking down she assessed the ground. It wasn't that high. She'd done higher. She grinned suddenly as she removed her shoes. She couldn't do with breaking the heel and besides, they would make more of a noise when she landed.

Ebony climbed onto the window frame and jumped confidently. Landing on the pavement gracefully and still on her feet. She nodded still smiling to the startled passers-by.

Putting her shoes back on and without glancing back at baker street Ebony walked confidently out on the streets of London.

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><p><strong>Let me know what you think.<strong>

**Rach.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I am so sorry! I've been so busy with exams and general life, I haven't had time to upload but I'm back! :-P**

**Thanks for all the responses to the story so far it really motivates me :-)**

**For those who asked the song in the last chapter was Muse Time is running out :-)**

**soo hope its okay! please R&R :-)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock only Ebony.**

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><p>Ebony walked into the club, the image of confidence. It didn't matter she was underage, the bouncer hadn't blinked twice at her fake id and now here she was. She could feel eyes on her, taking her in, many eyes. She smiled slightly. Scanning the room.<p>

She had arranged this almost as soon as she had arrived in London; she hadn't seen him for ages he'd had to cancel coming to see her when she had lived in California, family commitments. God she hated families.

Her smile broadened as the eagle found her prey. Walking casually over to the bar her eyes met his, he grinned. His brown hair had a slightly blonder tint and his skin tanned. She raised her eyebrows as she approached him. He kissed her cheek.

"How was Sydney?" She asked him casually, he laughed shaking his head at her.

"Let me guess the smell of my after sun told you?" This time it was her turn to laugh.

"No, your tan told me that the only place hot enough to get one like that over the past few weeks has been Sydney." He shook his head again, his blue eyes lit up from his smile. He handed her a drink and she sat down.

She was going to have fun, whether her new guardians wanted him too or not.

"Sherlock!" John yelled running through to the living room. "Sherlock!"

"What is it now John?" Sherlock asked eyebrows raised. Despite the tone of alarm in John's voice the consulting detective's eyes didn't leave the newspaper he was reading.

"Ebony's not in her room! She's gone!" John tried to keep calm, but failed, panic seeped into his voice.

He had gone in to see if the girl wanted some breakfast, but when he went into her room he found it unoccupied and the bed clearly un-slept in. Sherlock sighed.

"Well of course she's not there John." Sherlock turned the page in his newspaper. John breathed out slightly.

"You mean you sent her out to get something this morning?" John asked, feeling slightly calmer.

"No, I mean she snuck out the window approximately 20 minutes after you sent her to her room." Sherlock spoke quickly, he sounded bored. Turning the page Sherlock noted John's eyes widen more than he had ever seen them. John also seemed to stop breathing as he felt the panic fill him, panic and anger at Sherlock's blasé attitude.

"W…What? What are you talking about? Sherlock!"

"Well…probably more 15 minutes." Sherlock tilted his head slightly, not noticing the glare John sent at him.

"Sherlock! How can you be so calm about this? She has been out all night!" Sherlock sighed putting the paper aside, he'd read it anyway, there were no suspicious murders so he'd gotten bored.

"John she's not a child, she's a teenager, apparently she's supposed to rebel. I thought you would have known that, after all you're the expert." Sherlock rolled his eyes; he lay out on the sofa brushing his dressing gown out of the way.

"Sherlock she's seventeen! She could be anywhere. She's not lived here for long she doesn't know the city and you're not even bothered! She's your daughter and you act like you don't care." Sherlock's eyes snapped open he turned his head to glare at John.

"That is because I don't care." Sherlock replied coldly, "In any case, there really is no point in worrying she'll turn up eventually."

John spluttered he couldn't believe it. He knew Sherlock was cold and could be cruel but this was a new level of cold.

"She's your daughter Sherlock not mine! How can you be so heartless?" John's voice rose as he felt his irritation with the anger grow. Why couldn't he just care?

"I've told you many times John, I don't have a heart. It would interfere with my work." Sherlock stated to the ceiling. John laughed. This was ridiculous,

"Unbelievable…absolutely… Dammit Sherlock!" John slammed his hand against the wall, breathing heavily he turned his head back to the detective. "She could be anywhere Sherlock."

"Who could?" Came a voice from the doorway. A female voice. Johns head snapped up as he stared at her, breathing in a sigh of relief. She raised her eyebrows at his reaction. She was wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

"Where the hell have you been?" John questioned, relief giving way to anger. She grinned.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She laughed at his expression of shock and walked to her room, closing the door behind her.

"Told you she'd be back." Sherlock gloated, a small smile on his face. John sighed.

So this is what it felt like to be a parent.

Ebony groaned slightly as the light flittered through the blinds.

"Good Morning." Ebony rolled her eyes and laughed at Matt, the guy from the bar. She took the cup of coffee from him. They had been friends a while, he knew how she liked her coffee.

"Morning, what time is it?" She asked taking a sip of the steaming liquid. She pushed her hair out of her face with her other hand. He checked his watch.

"9.30am" She nodded.

"I better get going." She smiled as she got up pulling on her clothes. He sat back on the bed.

"What are you gonna do?" He asked her eyebrows raised, she laughed.

"What about my sociopathic father? Not a clue, I suppose we just have to learn to live with each other, but there is way too much ego in that flat." He laughed at her.

"Personality clash." She turned to face him, putting on her shoes.

"Understatement." She stood up. "I mean he's just so arrogant, he wants to always prove he's brilliant and no matter what he always has to argue, even if he's wrong. Honestly he's a nightmare and... What is it?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Sounds like your more similar than you think." He shook his head. Suddenly he ducked.

"Hey less of that! We are nothing alike!"

"Yeah sure." He muttered. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Anyways I better go; I think John may have a heart attack when he finds my bed empty."

"And your dad?"

"He'll be all calm and collected, like he doesn't care."

"You believe that?" She cocked her head to one side.

"I dunno yet. God that's infuriating." He laughed at her. She headed to the door, "Last night was fun." She smiled at him.

"Yeah, let's try to meet up again before we retire okay?" She laughed again, the sound muted slightly as she headed for the door.

"Sure."

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><p><strong>Hope it was okay!<strong>

**I'll try to upload soon!**

**Rach x**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry...**

**I know it's been forever, life's just got in the way again.**

**I know this is only a short upload and I am aiming to make the chapters longer and get more into the story now, just thought I should upload this as its been so long!**

**Might be a while uploading after this because of exams but hopefully once there done then I'll be able to upload more regularly!**

**Thanks for anyone still reading this and the responses on the previous chapters its great to know what you guys think so please let me know!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock only Ebony.**

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><p>"You're annoying me." Sherlock spoke to the ceiling; john looked up from his paper.<p>

"I'm annoying you? I haven't done anything!"

"Your breathing!" John stared at the detective, he really couldn't believe Sherlock." It's loud. Irritating." John stood up.

"Oh well I am sorry Sherlock that my breathing to remain alive bothers you so much, how insensitive of me."

"So you should be." John raised his eyebrows at the consulting detective, laid out on the sofa staring at the ceiling still in his pyjamas. Sometimes John wondered how Sherlock had survived before they lived together.

"What's the matter with you? Your sulking like a spoilt brat, you've been insulting and horrible to everyone all week and that Sherlock, that is annoying, not breathing and, and it's also getting boring!" John shook his head at the detective. Sherlock sat up outraged.

"Boring?"

"Wow John you're really getting into this whole parental thing huh?" John turned to see Ebony smiling from her doorway dressed in a normal pair of jeans and a top, he noted to his relief. Ebony nodded as she noticed his observation.

"You think I'm boring?"

"Anyway it's not you he's annoyed at, it's me. I irritate him," Ebony smiled at her father.

"I bring home body parts and terrorist gangs….."

"You?" John asked the girl nodded.

"Codes and bombs…"

"Yeah, he can't figure anything out from me, can't deduce anything. Drives him up the wall." She laughed. "Funny really, guess I'm more like him then he thought."

"So in a way he finds himself irritating." John wondered aloud, the girl laughed again.

"BORING!"

Sherlock glared at the army doctor and the teenager who stared back, one in disbelief and one amusement. John shook his head.

"Out of all that I said, that is the only word you picked up?"

"It's the only word that mattered!"

"Well then yes you are boring, now if you'll excuse me daddy dearest I've got work to be doing." The girl smiled sweetly at her father and headed out of the door.

"Work?" John turned to his flatmate questioningly. Sherlock sighed

"Case solving John, do keep up. That was obvious; perhaps you're the one losing your touch."

John sighed as the detective lay back onto the sofa and watched as he worked through a case involving a diamond, three Russian assassins and a golden retriever.

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><p><strong>Rach x<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**I always seem to be apologizing in these for how late the upload is and this one is no different. So sorry it has taken so long but thank you to everyone for the favorite's, reviews, followed etc. it really means a lot and I hope you are still enjoying the story.**

**Thanks and please review :-).**

**Disclaimer: I only own my OC. **

**Until next time,**

**Rach x.**

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><p>"I'm quicker than you, that's all don't take it personally Sherlock." Ebony smirked walking through the door, her father close on her heels. John was paying for the taxi.<p>

"You are mistaken; you are not by any means quicker by me. You cheated." Sherlock narrowed his eyes whilst Ebony laughed she slumped on the sofa.

"Oh please you sound like a child, besides I never cheat. I don't need too." She grinned eyes widening at the last comment. "I'm a genius remember? Clever and quick, quicker than you anyways but that's because you're old, don't take it too personally." Ebony pulled herself of the sofa and headed towards her room.

"I still call it cheating."

"You would."

"Would what?" John entered the flat, annoyed at paying the fair yet again but curious as to what was happening between the duo. Ebony stopped just short of her room, turning round.

"You could thank me you know, you'd have been blown up if it wasn't for me and my _cheating _John would be dead and you would be left feeling, immensely guilty. Despite your claims not to care."

"I would have figured it out!"

"I know that's why you weren't the one that would be dead."

"Thank you Ebony." John interrupted, seeing Sherlock's eyes narrow further causing him to glare. Ebony always had a way to infuriate Sherlock in a way that he had never seen anyone do before. Well only one person.

"You're welcome John." Ebony smiled slightly. Sherlock lifted his head slightly as she turned away again.

"You seem to have developed an ability to avoid near-death situations." He said quietly. Ebony smiled.

"Must be genetics."

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><p>It was nearly 2 hours later when Ebony emerged from her room. John was sat on the sofa on his laptop; he glanced up at the emergence of the teenager.<p>

"Hey" he smiled, she nodded back.

"Hi, is he out?" She nodded towards Sherlock room. John nodded.

"Gone to the morgue, needed a favour from Molly." Ebony raised her eyebrows.

"You mean he's gone to flatter the girl enough so that she'll jump when he tells her." John detected the bitterness in her voice.

"Most likely, poor woman." Ebony shook her head sighing she sat down opposite John. "What?" he questioned.

"You can't pity her John, I mean yeah it's not particularly nice what he does but then again she's a grown woman and she falls for every time. Giving in to him. Letting him walk all over her." She sat down raising her eyebrows at the last part.

"That doesn't mean it's not cruel."

"No, its business and if he didn't do it then someone else might die. Now what's worse some girl getting her hopes up and behaving like a love sick puppy or some innocent bystander dying because he didn't get the resources he needed? Don't look at me like that John."

"Like what" he glanced at her eyebrows raised.

"Like you're judging me, like I'm the one that's done something awful. "

"I just don't think it's fair."

"Neither is life John. People need to stop believing in fairy tales, I swear it's bad for kids to watch them, the parents should be ashamed raising their hopes that of they're good everything turns out fantastic."

"You sound just like him"

"Then he must be right."

"Don't let him hear you say that. Take it you weren't one for fairy tales."

"Too busy hacking the governments files on nuclear war."

John smiled as the teenager laughed. John decided now was the time to push the issue.

"What is it John?" Ebony had felt the doctor's hesitance and could sense he had something to say to her. John sighed. The teenager raised her eyebrows nodding at him with both encouragement and impatience, something that reminded him of Sherlock.

"I just find it difficult to understand how someone so young can have such a clinical view on life."

"Clinical?"

"Yeah, like you don't see people or their emotions. To you everything's like a plan it's all figures and facts, not like you're dealing with actual people." Ebony rolled her eyes and shifted slightly so she was facing John.

"I know what you meant John; it's just an interesting choice of words." John frowned slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing" John sighed in frustration dealing with the girl exhausted him, she was so much like her father that sometimes it worried John, she shut herself away and as a doctor he knew that wasn't a good thing. Besides, he didn't think the world would be able to cope with two Sherlock Holmes.

"My mum burnt John." Despite her quiet tone he still found himself jumping slightly, he hadn't expected an admission from her. He expected her to walk away or change the subject like she always did when anything became personal.

"In my own home she was burnt alive. In the one place you're supposed to feel safe and she burnt."

"Ebony…."

"No John, don't try to give me sympathy. Don't try any of your dealing with the grieving family doctors crap. I don't want it. I don't care. Emotions just slow you down; I'm just saying that it changes your perspective on life that's all." John nodded smiling sadly at the girl.

"Yeah, I get it."

"Nothing to get John."

There was a pause where John reflected on his best friend's daughter's words. He had never heard her talk about her mother before or anything about her life before she had walked into theirs, he had often wondered if she was okay mentally he had never seen her cry or grieve or show any sadness at the loss of the most important woman in her life. To john it looked like she almost had never had a mother, that she had lost no one. She didn't stop or talk, just carried on going. It was like talking to another Sherlock but there was something else, hidden, another side of her that was very much not Sherlock. He just didn't know whether it was Ebony or someone else. John wondered how to continue, where to go from there, meanwhile, the girl in question stared up at the celling; she didn't care for awkward situation. Now that was very Sherlock.

"Do you miss her?" He questioned quietly and gently, she paused slightly.

"I read your blog."

"Ebony…"

"I can see why it annoys him."

"Ebony…please…" The girl stood up.

"John, I've already told you, emotions slow you down, they're a hindrance so I don't bother. They slow down the brain and cloud your judgement. If I were emotional I wouldn't be good at what I do."

"You can't believe that."

"Oh can't I? Believe it or not, it makes no difference to me but I do. Just think if I cared people would die. You being on the top of that list."

She headed towards her room again, John sighed shaking his head, just when he thought he was getting somewhere. She stopped hand on the door but didn't turn round.

"Then the world would be deprived of your blog. I don't think I'd ever be forgiven for causing such a catastrophe." She spoke quietly, voice laced with the sarcasm that would have made her father proud.

John sighed as he heard two doors shut. Sherlock entered the room with a grin which, from experience John had learnt never meant something pleasant or simple like watching the T.V. Sure enough he saw the consulting detective holding a bad which smelt, much to John's dismay, remarkably like rotting organs. Since when had he been able to identify the smell of rotting organs?

"John, experiment time." His eyes gleamed.

John groaned, sometimes he wondered what a normal house was like.


	11. Chapter 11

Hi guys,

Sorry this isn't a new chapter and I know it's really annoying when people do this, but I've had a lot of people asking me when I'm going to update this. Basically it's my exams this week so I won't be until they are over, but hopefully I aim to be updating regularly after then.

Also in response to a review I received from Guest- If you actually read the story you'll see that the lawyer wasn't acting on behalf of social services but on behalf of Ebony's mother, so therefore he would get involved. I was also under the impression that you got some form of support from social services until you were either 18 or 19. I'm not an expert on it but to this story the whole social services debate doesn't apply.

Sorry for my hopelessness and thanks for all the support!

Rach x.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry it's been a while again I know!**

**Here is the next chapter, the story will start to get into the main kind of plot from now on, I just needed to get this background in!**

**A response to Guest- If the only thing you can criticise my story for is the age I've chosen Ebony to be I guess I should be grateful but really if it bothers you that much and you don't have anything constructive to add, don't review or even don't read. Ebony is my character and this is my story I've made her 17 because it fits in well with the story I have in mind, it's my choice and I'm sticking with it.**

**On another note, thank you to everyone who has reviewed and favorited this story so far! It means so much and I really didn't think I'd get so many reviews/Favorites on this so again thanks, it really makes my day!**

**Hope it's okay please R&R to let me know.**

**Rach x**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, I only own Ebony and Matt. **

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><p>"I've been thinking."<p>

"You're always thinking."

"Very funny." Ebony swatted Matt with the wooden stick she'd been using to stir her coffee with, spraying his white shirt with dark droplets. Matt scowled.

"Hey! You've ruined my shirt." Ebony raised an eyebrow.

"I improved it, it's an awful shirt."

"Could have told me."

"I did." Matt racked his brains, trying to remember such an incident, he was always able to recall conversations with the girl with relative ease, they were all so different from everyday life that they seemed to stick out to him, like bright colours in a dark world. He scowled at her.

"It doesn't count if I'm not there to hear it." Ebony shrugged.

"Still said it." Matt was about to retort, but thought better off it. He'd known Ebony for years now; she always got the last word.

"So, what have you been thinking about?"

"My mother."

Matt stopped, staring at her. He hadn't been expecting that, Ebony never really spoke about her mum, not even when she'd been alive. He'd met her couple of times, but the woman had always made him feel uncomfortable, she was overbearing and got a kick out of creating the most awkward situations. He'd always been able to see traces of that in Ebony, but thankfully never to the extent of her mother, he'd often wondered why but had put it down to the fact that they had never really seemed that close.

Matt paused, unsure of how to continue, he could deal with her ranting about the weaknesses of the government or UN firewalls or the stupidity of the police. He could deal with her rants and raves about some peoples apparent inability to evolve correctly and just how generally stupid everyone else was in comparison to her. He was used to that, it amused him even, to see things how she did, life without emotion. But this, this shocked him, this was emotion. It worried him to see it in her.

"What about her?" Ebony raised her eyebrow again at him.

"Sympathy"

"What?"

"Pity"

"What do you mean?"

"Concern even."

"Ebony what are you-"

"In your voice" She snapped, "I understand that some people deem it necessary and make it a daily goal in their mundane lives to activate and gain such emotions from others, but I am not one of those people, so do us all the greatest of favours and remove such irrelevant and frankly pointless emotions from your voice when conversing with me."

"Ebony, I thought-"

"I know what you thought." She was back to her calm self, the poker face was back up. "You thought that in mentioning my mother I was reminiscing, daydreaming about a _happier time _when she was alive and I could run to her with any problem, and issue and she would wave it away with her oh so fabulous wand." Ebony shook her head at him, at his now red face. "Oh dear Matt, you appear to have fallen into the unevolved section of society, do you really think that such thoughts would ever taint my mind? That I would rely on her? That I would be overly emotional over her?"

"She was your mum." He muttered head down slightly. Like a naughty child.

"Just because my father's a mummy's boy doesn't mean I have to adore mine. You do remember her don't you?" She smiled slightly as Matt shifted uncomfortably, "I'll take that as a yes."

Matt laughed, as much as some would think it cruel or be worried by her lack of emotion, Matt was glad to see it still intact, it showed that it was still her, she hadn't changed and was still in control of things. She was coping. She was still Ebony.

"Anyways, what I was _actually _thinking was why I am here?" Matt looked at her confused.

"I don't follow"

"Nothing new there then." She sighed; Matt smiled despite himself, "I mean why send me to be with a father I've never met?"

"So he can look after you?" Now Ebony laughed.

"Do you really think I need looking after? Even if I did, more to the point do you really think Sherlock Holmes would be the person to do that?"

"Well maybe she thought that he deserved a chance to get to know you, maybe she thought he would step up?"

"Alright then Jeremy Kyle." Matt raised his eyebrows at the unexpected reference, "Sherlock is running short on cases at the moment, he's become a bit obsesses with daytime TV, John thinks its unhealthy but if screaming the lie detector and DNA results at the TV and referring to everyone as morons keeps him occupied, and more importantly spares the wall from acting as a shooting range, I guess he can't complain." Ebony explained, Matt laughed.

"How is John?" The doctor had always interested Matt, he seemed fairly normal, making him wonder how the hell he became involved with the most dysfunctional and erratic man in the country.

"He's a doctor." Ebony stated, with an essence of bitterness. Matt nodded.

"You hate doctors."

"Not as people, that would be silly and to an extent not the profession, I mean how many times have they patched me up now? It's the bit afterwards the whole 'You really shouldn't be playing with your mothers machetes now should you? They are dangerous don't you know.'"

"Well they are."

"Don't be dull."

Matt laughed again, he didn't doubt the incident as true, and it was so like her.

They sipped their coffees in comfortable silence for a few moments when Ebony's phone beeped. She answered it.

"What is it?"

"Work" She answered.

"Anything interesting?"

"Do you want to be killed?"

"Suppose not, might mess up my plans."

"Then you don't need to know, but I'm going to have to go, can't have my father stealing my thunder, well attempting to anyway. I've already had to save his skin twice." Without any further notice she got up and marched out of the shop, leaving Matt behind shaking his head.

"Guess I'm paying the bill then."


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey!**

**Sorry it's been forever again! Currently doing my UCAS (uni application) so hopefully will be updating more regularly after that!**

**Also sorry it's so short I'm struggling at the moment with this story and getting it to where I want it to be in terms of the plot so your reviews really do mean so much!**

**Thanks,**

**Rach**

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><p>"Ebony."<p>

"Busy"

"There's a letter for you."

"Still busy." Ebony didn't look up from her computer screen, "Just leave it on the side; I'll look at it at some point."

"It might be important." The doctor argued.

"Doubt it, important things don't come in letters, too easily intercepted." John sighed.

"I didn't mean work, it could be I don't know…personal maybe." John lifted his eyebrows, his tone that of fake surprise. Ebony sighed turning to face him from the couch.

"And who would want to write to me, personally." She emphasised the last word.

"I don't know maybe that boy you met up with last week?" Ebony laughed sharply, turning back to her computer.

"Spying on me John?" John turned red.

"No, Sherlock…" Ebony laughed again, darkly interrupting him.

"I gathered John, don't worry. He really must have been bored."

"Or he could have just cared." Their eyes met briefly as they both laughed, "Okay, okay maybe not, who is he?"

"Just a friend, known him for years."

"Does he have a name?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"It's really annoying when you do that."

"What?"

"Answer my question with a question."

"Should ask better questions then."

"You sound like him." Ebony rolled her eyes.

"I do seem to have acquired half of my genetics from him John, it was to be expected."

"You two are impossible."

"But you love us for it." Ebony grinned briefly. John rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Open your letter." He dropped the letter on her keyboard, meaning that she had to acknowledge it, before he left the room.

Ebony sighed irritably, turning over the envelope. The writing was narrow slanted slightly to the right, written in a fountain pen, she noted. Opening the envelope she pulled out the contents, a letter and another smaller envelope, like the type people used when they insisted on sending those insufferable Christmas cards. A pointless tradition, she had always thought, after all wishing someone a merry Christmas was so common and expected, surely it didn't need a card? Wishing someone an unhappy Christmas, now there's a card she'd like to see. Though, she pondered smiling slightly, if they existed she was sure she'd have become overly familiar with them.

Turning her attention back to her mail, she decided to open the folded paper first. The words were few and the writing in the same, unfamiliar hand on the envelope.

_Wouldn't Mummy be proud._

Frowning slightly at the mention of her parent, Ebony quickly opened the second envelope. It contained a single picture. The picture was of her and Matt, walking into his flat shortly after she had moved here, when she had climbed out of the window. Recalling the evening she thought someone had been watching her, but had shaken it off; put it down to the change of scenery. Besides, paranoia really wouldn't help with her line of work.

So she had a stalker, she smiled thoughtfully. More importantly, a stalker whose identity she didn't know. The writing was unfamiliar yet indistinctive and the paper expensive, yet common. Whoever had sent this clearly wanted to challenge her. They knew where she lived and clearly knew her relationship with Matt. Her smile turned into a grin, well, they had gone to a lot of effort. It really would be a shame to play the spoil sport. She may as well play a long, they didn't frighten her. She put the contents back in the envelope and laughed quietly.

This was certainly interesting.


	14. Chapter 14

**Here's the next chapter.**

**Enjoy and reviews are appreciated!**

**Rach **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, only Ebony and Matt.**

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><p>It had been nearly three weeks since Ebony had received the letter from her stalker. Three weeks and she was still no closer to finding out who it was. They were persistent, she'd give them that, she'd received a letter almost every day for the last three weeks. Same envelope, same writing, just a different content, sometimes a picture of her, sometimes just a little note to acknowledge they were still following her, whoever they were. John had been confused at first, almost a little suspicious about the amount of post she was suddenly receiving, confusion that turned to delight when she had told him they were letters from old friends. He thought their talks about opening up had finally gotten through and now she was socializing with numerous pen pals. Sherlock had said nothing, unsurprisingly, Ebony wasn't even sure he had noticed.<p>

She sighed as she reached for the latest letter which John had just given her, smiling as he handed it over and shut her bedroom door. Ebony lifted it from her keyboard, pausing and frowning slightly as she did so. This one was different, heavier, only slightly, anyone would think nothing of it, but Ebony wasn't just anyone. She slowly opened the top of the envelope and gently tipped the contents onto her bed. Two things fell out, one landing considerably quicker than the other. A note in the usual expensive, but infuriatingly common, paper fell on top; she reached for it and unfolded it.

_Weren't you just adorable?_

Frowning, Ebony snapped up the second object, any sense of caution now gone. It was a memory pen, again nothing special about it, nothing unique. How infuriating. She got up of the bed and walked to her desk, quickly switching her laptop on.

When it had loaded she plugged the stick in and clicked the folder. There was only one file on the stick.

Mummy's little girl.

Eyes narrowing to slits, Ebony opened the file. She resented the idea that she was her mother's; she had never been attached to her and had never been her mother's priority. Her work had always come first; if she had cared Ebony could probably put a lot of her characteristics down to her mother's unique way of child rearing. The file loaded slowly and on it there were seventeen images, Ebony clicked the first one.

Her eyes widened slightly as she stared at the little girl smiling to the camera, the girl was about three years old and was holding some flowers in her hand as she smiled and laughed at the person behind the camera. She clicked the next image. This time the girl was four, she had her hair in two ponytails with little pink flower bobbles. She was smiling again, but this time her eyes were glowing with excitement and a hint of nervousness as she clutched her brand new school bag. Judging by the crispness of her uniform and unscuffed shoes it was the girls first day of school.

Ebony blinked slightly and clicked the next image, this time the girl was seven, at least that's how many candles were on the birthday cake in front of her. She had her hair tied up in a ponytail with little light brown strands falling to the side of her face. She was wearing light pink Disney top and baby blue leggings. But they were hidden from view by the table. Ebony could remember the day. Her eyes moved from the girl to the woman stood at her shoulder. She was smiling at the camera, dark hair loose in curls around her shoulders, face immaculate and eyes sharp. She was trying to look happy and supportive to the camera. The perfect mother. She supposed to others who looked at the photo, that would be the view, she had been a brilliant actress. But Ebony knew her better than to be fooled. Her eyes travelled slowly back to the little girl.

She wasn't smiling anymore. Her eyes looked sad, confused almost scared, like she was about to cry.

_Like she wanted to run away, run from the house with the strange men who came to see her mummy. Run from the chaos of the house, from the shouting and the arguments. Run away and never look back. _

_But she couldn't._

_Instead she waited until the party guests had gone home, waited until her mother had gone out and her nanny was down stairs with the TV on loud. Waited and hid in the corner of her room clutching her toy bunny and watched the moonlight dance across her bedroom wall._

Ebony sighed, looking away from the screen. She got up and made her way to the draw beside her bed. Opening it she pulled out the small white toy. Pulling it to her chest she cuddled it tight, inhaling the smell of the man who had once been her father.

The knock at the door brought her back to reality. She dropped the rabbit into the draw and snapped it shut, just as the door opened. Sherlock leant against the door frame.

"There's a boy outside, he said you were supposed to meet him half an hour ago." He sounded bored; Ebony glanced at the clock and swore inwardly. She wouldn't often care about being late, but it was Matt she had arranged to meet, and despite appearances she did care for her oldest friend. Probably her only friend.

"I'm surprised you bothered to tell me." She said dryly.

"Not by choice, Johns out and the doorbell was interrupting my thoughts."

"Surprised you didn't just shoot it."

"John got extremely irritated the last time, he was completely unreasonable for a week, made working very difficult." Ebony snorted slightly.

"Yeah because he's the one that's difficult." She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Precisely" Ebony rolled her eyes at her father's comment and walked past him and out of the flat. Despite being similar to him, she could still see how irritating he was. John really did deserve a medal.

Sherlock watched through the window as his daughter met and walked away with the boy who had been so insistently loitering for the past fifteen minutes. When she had disappeared from sight he left the window and walked towards her bedroom door.

Opening it, he took in the decorating, not a typical teenage bedroom John had said. Sherlock didn't have a lot of experience in a girl's bedroom but from his perspective, he saw nothing unusual about it. There were books on the shelf, clothes in the wardrobe and a laptop on the desk as well as a large pile of papers. But that wasn't what he was looking for. He walked towards the bedside cabinet and reached to open the drawer. He was curious to see what his daughter was hiding. When he had come in earlier she had seemed emotional, upset he supposed. Her eyes sad. Like she was remembering something that caused her pain. He was curious.

Pulling out the toy softly he looked it over. It was old, probably a similar age to Ebony herself, but it was well cared for, not torn or missing an eye. Stuffing was all intact and the fur was still soft so it had never had anything spilled over it. It was important to her; it meant something, which was why it was so well looked after. But it had been kept in the drawer, meaning it caused her pain. Probably reminded her of something she'd rather forget. So why had she been looking at it? Why was she choosing to remember now?

Sherlock frowned and glanced around the room. The laptop caught his attention almost immediately, the screen saver was flickering on the screen but it was still on. Ebony must have left it on when she went out. Putting the soft rabbit back in the drawer exactly as he had found it, he walked towards the computer and pressed the enter key as he sat on the chair.

His eyes widened slightly at the picture that appeared, he frowned as he took it in. A girl's birthday party. Well clearly the girl was Ebony, she had changed as she had grown over, but the look on the girls face was the same as the one she had worn when he entered the room earlier. Sadness.

He noted a woman stood behind her in the photo, clearly her mother. Though he could barely remember her, the woman in the photograph did look very familiar to him. It was the eyes; he was drawn to them and found himself staring. Her eyes were captivating and mischievous. But they were also cold.

Sherlock turned from the screen and got up, walking back towards the bed. That was when he noticed the piece of paper Ebony had abandoned earlier. Picking it up him read the words slowly.

Well, he thought slowly, it seemed his daughter had a little follower. He deduced that was where the photos had come from, the size of the envelope on the bed gave that away, that and the fact his daughter didn't seem to have any photographs of her life before Baker Street, and she had very few of it after that. Only the ones John had insisted be taken, to bring some form of normality to their lives.

Putting the note back on the bed, Sherlock put the pieces together, she had been receiving a letter almost every day for three weeks now, he had been counting. That meant that she was still no closer to figuring out who it was, or else they would have stopped by now.

Smiling slightly he shut the bedroom door and headed for his own laptop.

Well, it seemed the game was on.


End file.
